Bewitched

Chapter 7

After talking with Father Dominic, Jesse offered to walk me home. Who was I to say no?

I happily agreed, trying to hide my giddiness — but to no avail. I was actually pretty nervous, too.

I liked Jesse. A lot. That much I knew. How this came about, I am not so sure.

I mean, let's get the facts straight. Jesse is dead, I am alive. Nothing would ever work out. Or work out the way I wanted it to.

Having him walk me home, however, was okay. At least then I could think about how handsome I thought he was without actually worrying about it.

Jesse and I were walking along the pitch black streets toward my house. Luckily I had him there with me, or else I probably would not have been able to navigate the way to my house and would thus get lost.

The chilly night air swept under the skirt of my dress, causing me to shiver. Jesse looked over at me, concerned. "Are you cold?"

Did he actually care for my well-being or was I just imagining things? "Uh, no," I lied. "I'm fine." Besides, there was not much he could do about it anyway. It's not like he was alive and could produce a good amount of body heat. Being dead and all, he didn't have body heat.

But...it did feel like it sometimes, when he was close to me and everything...

Oh, how I wished those strong, callused hands to be caressing my cheek and his face leaning in ever-so-closely, about to kiss me...

I was jarred out of my fantasies when a loose pig came running by, nearly knocking me down, and snorting happily that it was finally free. It was only a matter of time, I knew, that the owner would find it and kill it.

Some things in this world are just not justifiable — or fair, for that matter.

As I said before, though, the pig nearly knocked me down. To keep myself from falling to the ground, I clung onto Jesse for support; and he, in turn, wrapped his arms around my waist to keep me from falling even more — or that's what I thought he was doing, anyway.

It was about a minute later that I realized we were holding each other — more or less. My breath caught in my throat and for a fleeting second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

But yet again, it was just my wishful thinking.

I felt my face flush as I looked up at him. Jesse coughed and let go of me as I stood up on my two feet.

"I'm sorry," I hastily apologized.

He looked at me, a little smile evident on his lips. "You don't have to apologize, querida."

And there was that word again. The word I so desperately want to know the meaning of. I doubt Jesse would tell me what it means...but its worth a try.

"Jesse?"

He turned to look at me again. "Yes?"

"What does that word mean? Querida?" I asked innocently. Maybe if I put on an act, he would tell me...

"We should get going. I'm sure your mother is wondering where you are by now," he said, completely ignoring my question.

What could it possibly mean, that he won't tell me? Is it bad? Or is it good?

I sighed and mumbled an, "all right," and we kept walking in silence. When we got to my house, I thanked him for walking me home and went into the dining room. Brad was setting the table for supper.

I grabbed some plates from the counter and helped him finish. Then I went into the kitchen to help my mom put the food on the table. She smiled at me and said, "Did you have a fun time with Paul?"

Did she really think that's who I was with all day? I smiled. "Yeah. He's nice." Which really was what I thought at the time, too.

My mom grinned. "Good. We need to find a husband for you soon, anyway. Maybe he's the one for you."

As much as I thought Paul was nice and handsome, I shivered at the thought of marrying him. I guess it was the hold he had over me. I didn't think being married to someone like him would be all that nice.

Just to satisfy my mother, though, I smiled again and said, "Maybe," and brought the platter of food out into the other room, setting it in the center of the table.

The six of us ate — Andy, my mother, Brad, David, Jake, and me — dinner peacefully. Occasionally someone would bring up something to talk about and we would stay on that topic for a little while. Then it would die down and everyone would stuff their faces.

After supper, I went up to my room to change into my nightgown for bed. I shut my door, ready to undress, when I saw something glowing out of the corner of my eye. I whipped around and saw a ghost sitting by my window.

Mary was sitting on my window seat, smirking. I glared at her and asked, my tone full of hate, "what do you want?" I was not going to be kind to her after what she did the other day.

"Why, Susannah," she said, getting up and circling me, "have you not heeded my warnings?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Warnings?"

She scowled. "The chandelier?"

She didn't need to say more. I knew what she was talking about. "That was supposed to be a warning? Of what?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "That if you don't get my life back soon, I'm going to do that to you," she growled.

How could I have ever thought this girl was nice?

"You're going to drop a chandelier on me?" I asked.

"No, you silly girl! I'm going to frame you; make it seem like you're a witch and have you hanged!" she yelled.

I gulped. Could she really do that?

I wish Jesse was there right then. He'd make her go away. Maybe not for good, but for the time being so I could think.

I blinked once and he was there. Well, that was convenient.

"Susannah, wha—" he broke off when he saw Mary standing there. "You," he said, his tone full of disgust and hate. "What are you doing here?"

She quivered. She was afraid of Jesse. I don't blame her, really. Jesse was very intimidating. "I-I came to warn her."

"Warn her of what?" he inquired, glaring at her. I actually kind of felt bad for her then.

She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "I all ready told her. There's no reason to tell you," she huffed.

"Then leave," he growled. I was even frightened then. I knew I did not want to get on Jesse's bad side.

She blinked fearfully and then dematerialized.

Jesse turned back to me. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. It seems as if he's been concerned about me a lot lately. Maybe there's some significance in that...

I nodded. "I'm fine. I just...how did you know to come then?"

He smiled. "You called me, Susannah."

I blinked and looked at him in confusion. "Called you? But I didn't even say anything, how—"

"I mean," he said, "you called me telepathically. I heard your voice in my head and it sounded a little fearful, so I came here."

I was still confused. I didn't say his name or anything, nor did I 'call' him. What was he—

Realization dawned on me.

So, even when I think about him, he hears it. That means I can't think about him anymore without him sort of knowing?

That is just great.

"Oh," I finally said. "I didn't know I could do that."

He smiled again and strode over to where I was, sitting on the edge of my bed. My breath caught in my throat as he came closer and closer, until he was only a few inches away from me.

I looked up into those warm, soft brown eyes. Eyes that I could easily get lost in. I am sure my eyes were not all that special when he was looking in them. All they probably reminded him of was grass or something equally bland. His, though, were dark, inky black pools that looked as if they went on and on forever.

I just wanted him to wrap those muscular arms around my waist and pull me into him.

I somehow found the guts to stand up. When I did, I thought I saw Jesse smile a little.

And before I knew it, Jesse had taken hold of my upper arms in his large, tendon-y hands and leaned down and kissed me. The kiss took my breath away. Never before had I been kissed by a man, and I really knew what I was missing out on, then.

It was soft kiss, but held an innumerable amount of passion. Passion that I so willingly replied with.

Jesse's hands went from my arms to encircling around my waist.

It all ended too soon, however, when Jesse realized what he was doing.

He suddenly jerked away and looked at me with something in his eyes. It looked a lot like...fear?

What did he have to be afraid of? That he would get some kind of disease from kissing me? While I think that is highly far-fetched, its not like it could happen anyway, since he was not among the living.

I was confused. What had I done to make him stop kissing me?

Jesse looked away. "I am completely and utterly sorry, Susannah. I have not a clue what came over me. I...I should go now."

He began to dematerialize, when I called out, "Wait!"

He shimmered back and looked at me expectantly. I didn't have anything planned to say. "Don't...don't leave. I didn't mind it. It was...it was nice."

He arched an eyebrow. "Susannah, in case you haven't realized, I am dead. I should not be kissing a young lady such as you, who is, in fact, alive."

I looked down. He was right; but I didn't care. "I..." I struggled for words; some kind of argument to refute what he had said. I couldn't find it though. Nothing was there.

All I wanted right then was for him to be kissing me again. I could not help the sensation that was brewing deep in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, I didn't care if he was dead or not.

After all, he was the only real man that I could relate to and vice versa; the only man who actually befriended me — with the exception of Adam (but I never really though of him as a man; just a silly friend I have); and, more recently, the man who gave me my first kiss.

How could I tell him that, though? How could I explain it to him without it making me seem crazy?

There wasn't a way. Not one I could think of, at least.

So I let him leave. I was disappointed, of course, but I was still in a daze from the fact that he had kissed me.